Xone of Contention

by Anthony, Piers

  Index. The female dog was still doing it.

  But now they were out of the library and back in normal magic jungle.

  “Do you know, I once met a lady who gave nothing but opposites,” Justin remarked innocently. “Her name was Anti Nym. I believe she would have felt at home at that library.”

  “But we don’t really need the library,” Breanna said. “We can see the paper view.” She held up a roll of paper.

  Pia knew she was going to hate herself, but she had to ask. “Paper view?”

  “You pay for each time you see it.”

  “That does it!” Pia screamed. She jumped out of the boat, landed off-balance, and whirled into the soft side of a cow-like creature. The thing made a soft, sickly “Mooo!”

  “I—I’m sorry,” she said, recovering her balance. “I did not see you.” The cow looked so sad that all her anger dissipated.

  The boat halted, and she climbed back in. “Moo-sick soothes the savage beast,” Edsel murmured.

  Pia tried to summon back her rage, but was worn out.

  “Actually, it is the savage breast that is soothed,” Justin said.

  “She’s got two of those,” Edsel agreed smugly.

  “And they are most elegant,” an elephantine creature remarked, leaning over the boat to stare at her blouse.

  “Pay no attention to the sycophant,” Breanna said. “It flatters everybody with equal insincerity.”

  “We are approaching Mount Etamin,” Justin said.

  Pia was relieved—until she saw the dragon circling the peak. In a moment the dragon spied them, and swooped down.

  Breanna seemed unalarmed. She stood carefully in the boat. “Hi, Draco!” she called. “It’s us—Justin and Breanna. And friends. Coming to see Nada Naga.”

  The dragon waggled with wings and veered off. Pia was not entirely reassured. “What would have happened if we had not been friends?”

  “He’d have toasted us,” Breanna said, shrugging. “But I wouldn’t have let us come here if I hadn’t known it was safe.”

  “Draco is an honorable dragon,” Justin said. “He has a very nice collection of gemstones in his nest. I believe he is the only dragon to possess some black beryls.”

  Para ran up to a tunnel and into the mountain. Soon it opened into a lighted cave. A huge snake loomed, forming the head of a human being. “Who are you, and what is your business here?”

  “Breanna of the Black Wave, Justin Tree, Edsel and Pia of Mundania, and Para Boat,” Breanna said. “We need to see Princess Nada Naga about her daughter, DeMonica.”

  The naga guard rolled his eyes. “Has that demon child gotten into more mischief?”

  “Not exactly. She has something we need. A locket.”

  “Wait here.” The human face disappeared, and the serpent slithered through a hole in the wall.

  Soon two other snakes returned. The big one formed a lovely human head with a small golden crown. “Hello, Breanna,” the princess said.

  “Hello, Nada,” Breanna said. “Edsel and Pia are Mundanes, here on an exchange program. They need to borrow the magic locket Ted and Monica found.”

  The small snake formed into DeMonica. “It got boring. We left it in the Fanta Sea.”

  Oh, no, Pia thought. They were going to have to search for it.

  “Can you show us where?”

  “Sure. I think.”

  Breanna hesitated. “Is it safe for Mundanes in the Fanta Sea?”

  “It is if they are careful,” the Princess said. “Why don’t you take Monica along, and bring her back here when you find it?”

  “Thank you,” Breanna said. “Hop in, Monica.”

  The child performed a huge hop and landed in Pia’s lap. “Hi, Pia,” she said cutely, and kissed her on the cheek.

  Pia hugged her. This sort of thing was getting easier with such cute children. “Hi, Monica. How did you get so sweet?”

  “I gave my sour to Ted. For today.”

  The others laughed. The boat turned around and set off. Monica remained on Pia’s lap. Pia loved it; there was just something about the child. Pia had never wanted to have children, but after meeting this one, and Ivy’s three, she was changing her mind.

  “Now just what is this Fanta Sea?” Edsel asked. “I mean, I know that wild dreams appear there, but what kind of dreams are they?”

  “All kinds,” Breanna said uneasily. “The truth is, I don’t much like the Fanta Sea. But if that’s where we have to go, then that’s where we have to go.”

  “Good dreams or bad dreams?” Pia asked. If Breanna didn’t like that region, chances were that Pia wouldn’t like it either.

  “All kinds,” Justin said. “It is a place where actual dreams escape from the realm of the gourd. Normally they are disciplined, organized by the gourd crews and carried by the night mares to sleepers who deserve them. But at the sea they are undisciplined, and can do what they want. Even the good dreams may not be welcome, when they have no outside controls.”

  “Good dreams unwelcome?” Edsel asked. “I’d love to be swamped by good dreams.”

  But both Justin and Breanna looked dubious. Only the child agreed. “Yes. Fun.”

  “I’d like some clarification,” Pia said nervously. Xanth was a land where face values could be very literal, but still needed to be handled with caution. Why should a child enjoy something that adults were wary of?

  “It is somewhat awkward to explain,” Justin said.

  “We’re here,” Monica said. “Go straight ahead, quack-foot.”

  Pia looked ahead. It seemed to be an ordinary lake, with brush around the edges and reeds growing in patches. Para ran into it and started swimming.

  Breanna looked to the side. There on the bank was a cemetery memorial stone. She shuddered.

  “That’s a dream?” Pia asked.

  “For sure. That’s serious.”

  “It’s a grave stone.”

  The girl nodded. Then Pia smelled a pun. Grave stone—serious rock. “Are you pulling my leg?”

  “Not this time. Honest. That stone reminds me of my dead mom.”

  “Your mother’s dead?”

  “No. But I used to dream she was, and I knew because I saw that stone. It scares me to pieces.”

  Pia saw that the stone was moving along beside the boat, paralleling their progress. “Can you get rid of it?”

  “I used to be able to wake up. But now it’s out here in my waking state.”

  “There is a way,” Justin said. “It is possible to make the dream spooks cancel each other out. What is necessary is to lead one into another, so that they collide. This requires some maneuvering, but is feasible.”

  “What happens if one catches you first?” Edsel asked.

  “Dreams can’t cancel people, because then there would be nothing to see them,” Justin said. “They are mere phantasms.”

  “But they sure can scare you,” Breanna said. “That’s what they do. That’s their magic. They make you feel whatever they want you to feel, and you can’t escape it.”

  “So we have nothing to fear but fear itself,” Edsel said.

  “Or other emotions,” Justin agreed.

  “I’m too young to be scared by grownup things,” DeMonica said proudly.

  Meanwhile Pia was watching the grave stone. “That thing is moving closer.”

  “I know it,” Breanna said tightly. “I’m afraid that if it catches me, my mother really will die.” She was not joking; her face was distraught.

  “I believe I see another,” Justin said. “But I don’t recognize it.”

  Pia looked. It was a tropical tree, seemingly growing out of the water. “It’s just a palm tree,” she said. “No threat to me.”

  Edsel looked. “Oh, no,” he breathed. “It’s mine.”

  “What’s its threat?” Pia asked.

  “It’s a joke my brother Bentley played on me when we were kids. He told me about it, and I thought it was real. It’s a Na Palm tree.”

  �
�I don’t believe I am conversant with that variety,” Justin said.

  “That’s because it didn’t exist in Xanth, until this moment,” Edsel said. “It’s my bad dream. It has barrel-like fruits that explode on contact, setting fire to anyone near.”

  “Oh, a variety of pineapple tree.”

  “Maybe so. But it terrifies me.” Indeed, Pia had never seen Edsel so scared.

  “Tree go bang,” Monica said, intrigued.

  Pia saw that the tree was coming closer. It did have deadly-looking fruits. She remembered the description of napalm: it soaked its victims, and burned their skin off, and wouldn’t stop. It was one of the most horrible weapons in existence. She didn’t want to experience it even in a dream.

  “You said we can make them collide,” Pia said. “Let’s do it.”

  “Only their subjects can lead them,” Justin said.

  “But neither Breanna nor Edsel look capable of doing much,” Pia pointed out.

  “Yes, that is the inherent irony of the situation. However, we can guide them.” He spoke directly to Breanna. “Call that stone to you, dear.”

  “I just want to get away from it!” the girl shrieked.

  “I love you. Trust me.”

  Breanna looked almost white with fear. But Justin took her hand, and she fought for control. She looked at the gravestone. “C-come,” she whispered.

  The stone moved toward her, much faster.

  “Me?” Pia asked Justin.

  “If you would. We must have both orient on us.”

  Pia leaned toward Edsel. “You heard him, Ed. Call it to you.”

  Edsel stared at her with dilated eyes. “The thing will destroy me!”

  “No it won’t,” she said firmly, though she had some private doubt. “Summon it.”

  “I can’t!”

  “Yes you can. I’ll help you.” She kissed him on the mouth. “Do, it Ed.” She hated using her power over him this way, but she had to motivate him to do what he had to do.

  He stared at her, his emotions of fear and love warring on his face. She smiled at him. Then he turned, slowly, and gazed at the tree. “Come, you horror, come,” he whispered.

  The tree responded with alacrity. Suddenly it was bearing down on them.

  “Hold on, everyone,” Justin called. “Para—now!”

  The boat had evidently been waiting for this directive. He leaped forward so suddenly that Pia fell backward off her seat.

  And behind them, the rushing gravestone crashed into the charging tree. There was a ball of fire, followed by dissipating smoke. The two dream monsters were gone.

  “But there will be more,” Breanna said, recovering. “For all of us.”

  “Monica, find that locket,” Justin said urgently to the child.

  “That way,” Monica said, pointing to a nearby tiny island.

  The boat veered. But another shape appeared, and it wasn’t the locket.

  “Oh, no,” Justin breathed.

  “What is it, dear?” Breanna asked.

  “It’s a morph.”

  “Morph,” Edsel said. “As in morphine, a pain killer, or morphing, changing form?”

  “Both,” Justin said with impending dread.

  “But those are two different things,” Pia protested. “One’s a shot, the other’s a movie and ad gimmick.”

  “Both,” Justin repeated weakly. “It’s an injection that causes folk to change shape involuntarily. I’ve seen it attack animals and ruin their lives. They get addicted to change, but can’t handle the new forms. It’s going to get me, and make me change back into a tree, or worse, right when I want so much to remain as I am.”

  “Now I feel your pain,” Breanna said. “I don’t want you to change.”

  “Changing forms is fun,” Monica said innocently.

  “But it’s only an emotional thing, isn’t it?” Pia asked. “Not really physical?”

  “An emotional tree could not embrace Breanna,” Justin said, his eyes locked on the approaching hypodermic shape.

  “We have to get rid of it, for sure,” Breanna said.

  But meanwhile Edsel had spotted something else. “Book shape at nine o’clock,” he said.

  Pia looked—and froze. “That’s the awful cook book.”

  “What’s scary about a cook book?” he asked. “You never cook anyway.”

  “That’s why I never cook,” she said tightly. “It burns me.”

  An errant glance bounced around the boat. “A cook book burns you?” Breanna asked after one and a half moments.

  “It’s another experience from childhood,” Pia explained, unable to look away from the horrible book as it nudged closer. “My mother was cooking in our apartment, on a hotplate, and she had a cook book out. I saw the hotplate and asked what it was, but she thought I meant the book, and said ‘It’s a cook book.’ So I tried to pick it up—”

  “And you burned your hand,” Edsel said.

  “Now I understand,” Breanna said. “That book out there is steaming hot. You could cook on it.”

  “For sure,” Pia agreed faintly. “I’m terrified of cook books. I know it’s stupid, but I can’t touch one of those things.”

  “And that morph better not touch Justin,” Breanna said. “It’s our turn to maneuver, Edsel.”

  “For sure,” he agreed.

  Now the two of them focused on their partners, reversing the prior case. “Justin, call in that morph,” Breanna said.

  “It’s going to stick me!”

  “Pia, call that cook book,” Edsel said.

  “It’ll burn me!”

  “Call it!” Breanna and Edsel said together.

  With extreme reluctance, knowing that the others were right, Pia pried open her mouth and said “Come, you awful thing.” And the hot book accelerated toward her.

  “Come, needle,” Justin whispered.

  “Go, Para!” Breanna cried.

  The boat shot forward. There was a crash behind it. And Pia’s horror eased. Two more awful fantasies had been destroyed.

  But another was already appearing. It looked like a vertical column, but it wasn’t supporting anything. “What is that?” Edsel asked.

  Pia, recovering, looked. The thing did not fill her with horror, so she knew it wasn’t hers. That was a kind of relief. “It looks like a rug,” she said, “A rolled carpet.”

  “A carpet!” DeMonica cried, her voice a wail. “That shouldn’t be here.”

  “You mean it’s yours?” Pia asked, surprised. She had thought the half-demon child to be immune.

  “I gotta get outa here!” Monica shrilled, and scrambled for the far side of the boat.

  “Wait!” Pia exclaimed, catching her. “You can’t run on water, and anyway, it’ll follow you.”

  “Let me go! Let me go!” the child screamed, struggling. But Pia drew her in close and held her firmly.

  “What’s the problem?” Breanna asked, and it wasn’t any routine query.

  “Let me go!” Monica shrieked.

  “The child needs calming,” Justin said.

  Pia did not know the first thing about calming a child. She had never wanted anything to do with children, who had in the past struck her as irrelevant nuisances. But she tried. “Take it easy,” she said, hugging the little girl.

  “No!” Monica was starting to change her form, oozing out of Pia’s grip in slow demonic fashion.

  Pia shifted her hold, but it was hard to hold on to a shifting squirming squiggling form. She was losing the contest.

  “We must discover the nature of the threat,” Justin said insistently.

  Pia saw the rolled carpet looming closer. It was angling now, as if making ready to unroll on the water. “Monica!” she said, taking another hold. “What’s about that carpet?”

  But the child was beyond listening. She wanted only to get away, and try to flee, though she drown in the attempt.

  “Kiss her,” Breanna suggested.

  Pia hauled Monica in and kissed her on the forehe
ad, trying to emulate motherly fashion. The child burst into tears and clutched her. “Don’t let it get me!”

  “I won’t,” Pia promised, though she had no idea how to keep that promise. “But you must tell me: what’s its secret?”

  “It’s going to roll me up!” Monica cried wetly. “I’ll smother.”

  Now it was coming clear. Suffocation inside the rolled carpet. Someone must have threatened the child with that once, and it had become a buried fear. Maybe the carpet was illusory, but its terror could still stop the child’s breathing. It was tilting farther, showing its hollow interior. “Is there another spook in sight?” Pia inquired desperately.

  “No,” Edsel said.

  Pia hugged the child closer. “Then find another way to abolish it.”

  Edsel turned to Justin. “Is there any other way?”

  “Sometimes. If there is a pun that can be changed. But there seems to be nothing funny about being smothered by a rolled carpet.”

  “Yes there is,” Edsel said. “Carpet tunnel syndrome.”

  “You got it!” Breanna said. “But how can it be changed?”

  Pia was discovering, to her surprise, that she rather liked comforting the child. She had never tried it before, but holding the little girl seemed meaningful. Monica was taking comfort, though as yet they had no certainty of saving her. The carpet was unrolling, making ready for its prey.

  “There has to be some other variant,” Edsel said. “Carpet—carpal—”

  A bulb flashed over Pia’s head. “Car pool tunnel thin dome!” she exclaimed.

  The carpet apparition seemed to groan. It changed form, becoming a thin glassy dome with a tunnel through it, wide enough for several cars. No way to smother anyone in that. Disgusted, it faded.

  “You saved me!” DeMonica said, giving Pia a heartfelt extra hug, and then a wet kiss.

  “Well, I had to, dear,” Pia said, feeling a tear at her eye.

  “I love you.”

  “And I love you,” Pia said. Now she was sure: she wanted a child of her own. She had never realized before how precious they could be.

  “You never punned before,” Edsel said, amazed.

  “I guess I never had to.” She let the child go. That job was done, but she would never forget that joy of holding the little girl close.

  “There’s the magic locket,” Monica said, as brightly as if she had never been scared. Children did recover from things rapidly. “On Soft.”